


forget about it

by eagle_eyes



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bittersweet, F/F, Tara Lives AU, but not too angsty i don't think, but that day is very far in the future, someday i will write fic that isn't just actual pages of rambling dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eagle_eyes/pseuds/eagle_eyes
Summary: Willow's always had a knack for not thinking before she speaks. As it turns out, when you're trying to mend your relationship with your girlfriend and prove that she can trust you again, this is kind of a big problem.
Relationships: Tara Maclay/Willow Rosenberg
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17
Collections: Extra Flamey





	forget about it

**Author's Note:**

> Set in an AU season 7 where Tara is still alive and has only recently got back together with Willow. Willow's still not using magic so I guess Dark Willow never happened? I'm gonna be real I didn't think the context through in that much detail when I was writing this.

The sight of Willow standing casually in her dorm room at UC Sunnydale still feels unfamiliar to Tara. It’s only recently that’s she’s become ok with Willow visiting her room, as opposed to wanting to keep Willow at a distance from anywhere with so many magical artefacts and temptations just lying around. She’s got enough faith in Willow’s self-control now that the thought of her just being in the room doesn’t put her on edge, but she still keeps all her magic things hidden out of sight whenever her girlfriend comes round. Just in case.

She has a sneaking suspicion that Willow herself is grateful for it as well.

At least for the moment, Willow doesn’t seem to be bothered by the temptation of magic less than a metre from her. Instead, she’s all wrapped up in the latest demonic threat that Buffy just called her about: some kind of shapeshifter that’s been impersonating different students at Sunnydale High.

“Tara, you wanna join me heading over to her place and helping out with the research - I mean, if you want to, of course! Wouldn’t want you joining us just because you feel like you have to, right? In fact, I should probably just go by myself - we really don’t need so many people - too many cooks and all that...but then, if you do want to come help out then you’re welcome to! Don’t let me tell you what to do!” 

She’s been like this pretty much constantly ever since the two of them got back together. Trying so, so hard to repress her controlling instincts, scared of falling back into old traps and of _anything_ that could be seen as her telling Tara what to do. Every conversation Tara has with her feels like she has to jump through hoops just to figure out what Willow’s actually thinking.

On some level Tara appreciates it, but she’s also starting to get tired of the two of them walking on eggshells around each other constantly.

“Willow, please breathe,” she responds, only half-joking, “I would be happy to help you and Buffy and the others with whatever you need. I actually think I have some books that could be useful. About different types of demons and stuff?” She gestures to the shelf holding said books; it’s half-empty - before Willow started visiting and even staying the night on a semi-regular basis the rest of it had been used to hold her books of spells.

“Hm, that’s...good. Very good, in fact!” Willow wanders over towards the bookshelf, “Mind if I…?”

“Go ahead.”

Willow starts rifling through the books, and Tara watches her from the bed, affection in her eyes. This feels good. It feels...normal. Strange, mysterious demons. Research. Them working together. It feels like they’re getting back into their routine.

Tara is broken out of her contemplation by Willow asking her something, although she was too distracted to hear what.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, I was just wondering…” Willow shakes her head “Wait, no. Buffy already checked that.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, it’s not important. Forget about it.”

Tara _tries_ to let the words roll off her back, she really does. She _knows_ , or she thinks she knows (she _knows_ ), that Willow doesn’t mean anything by it, it’s just a careless remark, a slip of the tongue.

That doesn’t stop it from sending a chill right through her.

She tenses involuntarily, not a lot, not so much that anyone who wasn’t paying careful attention to her would notice. But enough that Willow’s eyes go wide as she realises exactly what she’s said. Enough for her to immediately start babbling panicked clarifications.

“Oh _god_ , no, Tara, I didn’t - I didn’t mean -”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I - I wasn’t thinking - ”

“I know.”

It comes out a lot colder than Tara intends. Even though she knows the remark wasn’t ill-intentioned, it still stings a little that Willow, for all her reassurances that she just wants Tara to be happy, couldn’t have just this once thought before she spoke, before saying something that would obviously hit so close to home.

Tara tries to relax and it proves to be impossible, so instead she just leans back against the headboard of the bed and tries to ignore the crawling sensation in her skin.

It’s then that she notices that Willow has been edging ever so slightly towards her, one arm half-outstretched to hers, and a questioning look in her eyes. 

“Can I…?”

Tara nods slightly, and at her assent, Willow sits herself down on the bed next to her and begins gently running her hand up and down Tara’s arm. The touch is oddly relaxing, and Tara leans into it a little.

A thought suddenly occurs to her.

“Hey, aren’t we supposed to be going to Buffy’s?” she asks.

“I - I think this is more important.”

For a few minutes they just sit there in silence, knowing that they need to say something but unsure of what. Tara has so many thoughts buzzing around in her head, and it’s impossible to find the right words to say. To try to make Willow understand her. Willow, for her part, just sits there, stroking Tara’s arm and desperately avoiding her eye contact.

Eventually, Tara finds the right words. “I’m so tired, Willow.”

That breaks Willow out of her trance, and she glances up at the other woman, her hand dropping from Tara’s arm, “Tired? Of what? Of -”

“Of feeling like this. On edge. All the time. I mean, you feel it too, right?”

“I -” Willow falters for a moment, trying to figure out where their conversation is headed, “Is this working? Do you think we need to take a break? Or even…” she swallows, not finishing her sentence. Tara knows what she’s hinting at though. That perhaps their relationship is too far gone. That no attempt they make at reconciliation could ever work out. That the two of them would be better off just cutting their losses and being content with working together as Scoobies, on good enough terms with each other but nothing more. Tara can see why she’s thinking it, because it’s a possibility that she herself has always been grappling with.

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t think.” Tara replies, frowning, “But...I wish all of this could go away. I wish that things could just go back to normal. Like how they were before.”

Willow shifts herself to face Tara more easily, “Yeah, I understand.”

How Tara wishes _that_ were true.

“No, you don’t. You can’t. Do you understand what it feels like to have your trust broken like that? To not even be able to trust your own memories? I don’t think you can.”

Willow drops her gaze to her lap. Hesitantly, she puts one hand over Tara’s and says, in almost a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know. But...you get how that doesn’t help, right? Some things take a lot more than just an apology to make up for. And it’s not that I don’t want to try again, but it’s just - it’s hard sometimes, okay? I know it’s been, what? A year and a half? But you can’t expect me to be okay already -”

“Tara, I don’t expect you to...god, I think it’s a miracle that you were ever willing to forgive me at all, let alone give me another chance. I don’t deserve you, or any of this. But I still - I wanna try. I’ll do anything you need me to do. I’ll do anything to try to fix it.”

Tara pulls her knees up towards her and looks at Willow thoughtfully. “You want to fix something? How about the fact that I still don’t even know what - what happened. What I forgot. What you...took from me. You _never_ said, other than that we fought about magic.”

There’s silence from Willow, her brow creased as if confused by how to respond to that.

“I could tell you now, if you want,” she offers in a voice so quiet that Tara has to struggle to make out the words.

“I - I’d like that.” 

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what I was going to tell you,” Willow laughs darkly. 

“I don’t care how bad it is. Don’t you get it, Will? Anything’s better than not knowing.”

“Ok. Right. The whole truth, then.” Willow shifts uncomfortably, sitting more upright. She holds herself unnaturally, as if at gunpoint.

She clears her throat, and suddenly the words start spilling out.

Tara listens, half recognising the story she’s being told. She remembers bits and pieces of it - Halloween night, Xander and Anya’s engagement party, Dawn’s disappearance, going to check the Bronze with Willow - but god, there’s so much lost from her memory. 

She’s not even shocked by any of it - that’s the worst part. All things considered, it’s about as bad as she could expect.

Willow only just about manages to finish her account of the fight that changed everything between them. Her story complete, she quickly descends into another jumble of babbled apologies and self-loathing.

“I’m so, so sorry. It was awful - I was awful and I have no excuse for it and I had no right to say something like that to you, especially when I know everything you’ve been through in the past with your family and all and especially when you...you _trusted_ me and I... but it - it’s the truth. The whole truth. And now I have to live with it, and if you don’t want to still be together now that you know I understand because I probably wouldn’t wanna be either. I’m sorry,” She’s only just about able to finish her apology before she chokes on the words.

Tara turns the memory over in her head, hoping that it will click into place and she’ll be able to recognise it as the real, unaltered truth. It doesn’t work; there’s no flicker of recognition, no feeling in her gut that yes, this really happened. She looks on her own memory as if it’s someone else’s. Which, in a way, it is. 

Even if she doesn’t recognise it, she still doesn’t doubt its authenticity. The look of abject misery on Willow’s face as she tells the story is enough to convince Tara that it’s genuine.

“Yeah,” Tara replies dully, “That...that was pretty awful, Will. I can see why you’d want to make me forget that.”

Willow cringes at that, and part of Tara feels bad for so deliberately prodding at her guilty conscience. Then again, another part of her takes some dark enjoyment from the look on Willow’s face. ( _This apology has been a long time coming_ , it tells her, _nothing wrong with savouring it._ )

Then Willow starts another of her babbling apologies, and Tara’s resentment fades away. 

“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” she says, cutting off the babble. With a slight smirk she adds “You can stop apologising now.”

“D-do you mean for today? Or for good? Because if you do mean the second then I really don’t think that’s gonna happen any time soon.”

“Somehow, I feel like both options are equally unlikely.”

Willow smiles weakly. “Well, it’s true, y’know. I am sorry. For-”

“Stop.”

“For all of it.”

Tara sighs, and leans back against the headboard again, only this time she puts an arm around Willow and pulls her back with her. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you told me about what happened. It...it makes me feel better, somehow.”

“I should have told you sooner.”

“Yeah, you should,” Tara agress, with surprisingly little malice.

“I’m sor- I was just so ashamed of what happened and I wanted to move past it. And you’re right, I don’t understand what it’s like for you.” Willow threads her fingers through Tara’s almost without thinking, and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. “If I’m being honest, I don’t understand a lot about you these days.”

“Anything specific?”

Willow appears to have difficulty getting the words out, but perseveres through anyway, “I...I don’t understand why you came back. I mean, it’s not like I really have anything I can offer you anymore.” Her eyes drop to the floor. “Think about it. I used to be someone you could do magic with, but god knows I can’t be trusted with that anymore. I used to be someone you could trust, but I pretty much wrecked that for good. So what’s left? What are you doing here?”

Tara considers that for a minute. Then she begins to talk slowly, carefully considering every word. “Things are...they’re different now. I don’t know if they’ll ever get back to how they were, and if they do, we still have a hell of a lot of stuff to work through if we’re ever gonna get there. But...just because things aren’t the same, that doesn’t mean things can’t still be good. I know it may not look it right at this minute, but…I don’t regret trying again. I’m glad to have you in my life again.” 

She gives Willow a smile that’s small, but genuine. “And you know something? I can still trust you. It’s hard sometimes, but at least part of me always knows I can. I mean, I know you better than anyone, right?”

Willow grins back at her shyly. “Well...I wouldn’t underestimate how much Xander’s picked up over the years…”

“Fine. I know you better than anyone you _haven’t_ known since before you could read.”

“I could read at four!”

“Not important,” Tara smiles, and gives Willow’s hand a squeeze. Then, moment of levity passed, her expression turns serious again. “The point is, I know you, and I trust you, and I think...I think things are starting to be ok again. Things might look uncertain right now, but I have faith in you. I have faith in us.”

She’s surprised to see Willow’s forehead crinkle into a frown, apparently unhappy with that answer. “So it’s just faith? Doesn’t seem like a whole lot to base your trust on.”

“It’s enough.”

That brings the conversation to a close. Tara wraps an arm around her girlfriend’s waist to pull her in closer and Willow, in response, ducks her head to kiss Tara’s shoulder.

Their moment of solace is interrupted by Willow pulling away from Tara’s side. “Hey, does it look awful if I cut our important-process-moment short so we can go help Buffy with that shapeshifter thing?”

“Oh, I completely forgot,” Tara winces, “You’re right, we’d better go join her. She’ll be getting worried.”

“I know, I know,” Willow sighs, “I just...I had to make sure you were ok, ok? I mean, it’s been a while since I saw you so freaked out.”

“I understand. And thanks.”

“No, don’t thank me. If I hadn’t been such an awful girlfriend we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

Part of Tara wants to reassure Willow, to tell her not to blame herself, but the other, less forgiving part of her, is unwilling to go that far. ( _She’s right - all of this_ is _her fault._ )

Instead, Tara settles for: “Well, you’re still trying to make things better. And that has to count for something.”

“A-and you’re sure you’re ok now?” asks a nervous Willow as the two of them gather their things together to go return to the good fight, “It’s ok if you’re not! I mean, if you wanna talk about it more after, then that’s totally fine! I just wanna do whatever makes you feel comfortable, y’know, so-”

“You’re babbling again,” Tara grins.

“Oh, I’m aware. But humour me for a second,” Willow pulls her bag over her shoulder and lingers by the bed, caught halfway between staying and leaving, “ _Are_ you sure you’re ok?”

It should be a simple question, but Tara has to take time to ponder it. Try as she might, she can’t really come up with an easy answer. Being sure of things has never exactly been one of her strong suits anyway, and things are always about ten times more complicated when it comes to Willow. Always have been. Maybe always will be.

She has her moments of thinking (knowing) that Willow hasn’t changed at all and her moments of thinking (knowing) that everything’s different now and she doesn’t have to worry anymore. She has moments when she wonders what the hell the two of them think they’re doing - trying to fix a relationship that’s been broken so deeply. She has moments when she’s convinced they’ll never get past what happened that Halloween night and that the events will always be hanging over them. She has moments when she’s so sure that they can make things work, because despite so much between them she loves Willow and Willow loves her and that should be enough.

It’s _hard_ , trying to fix a relationship like this. And their breakup was far from a normal breakup anyway - Tara had her _memory_ altered, which she thinks justifies her in having a few trust issues.

But despite everything, what they have now is good. Too good to lose. And she’s willing to take a leap of faith for it, foolish as it may seem.

She flashes Willow a half-smile. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

It’s mostly the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this fic a few months ago and actually had it mostly finished before I got stuck on the opening for ages and then kind of forgot about it. It's only in the last week that I read through it again, realised it actually wouldn't take very long to finish and post, and finally got it done.
> 
> In hindsight, I feel like the ending could be better but sometimes you just gotta give up on drafting and redrafting the same thing over and over again and accept what you've made.
> 
> Also, I straight up have no idea what I thought I was doing with the sporadic Stephen-King-esque-stream-of-consciousness moments here but I guess I don't completely hate them?


End file.
